


baby, i want you to cave me in

by angelshapes



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drinking, Fluff, Getting Together, Johnny and Mark are awkward and oblivious and Haechan has had ENOUGH, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25652485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelshapes/pseuds/angelshapes
Summary: Yes, Johnny is in love with Mark, but no, he absolutely does not want to talk about it. Things werefine. They had been fine for years and they would continue being fine!...no matter what Donghyuck says or any bright (and catastrophic) ideas he has about the situation.Or, the one where Johnny has a LOT of feelings and spends more time pining and overthinking instead of sucking it up and making a MOVE already.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 52
Kudos: 336





	baby, i want you to cave me in

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to Mark Lee (and also me)!!!! 
> 
> I think a lot about how Johnny is an Aquarius with almost no water in his chart so he's cagey and never wants to talk about his feelings. I also think a lot about that "you ever look at someone and wonder what's going on in their head" meme. Somehow, this is the lovechild of that. 
> 
> Also if you’re a stickler for a timeline, this is set in the month-ish long period juuuust after the 95z workout and the Crash Landing on Mark & Johnny livestreams but before the Mark & Johnny At Home Europe Trip.
> 
> Thank you to Egg and Jaz for reading this over for me. I'm eternally grateful!

When they get word that the tour has been cancelled, Johnny is relieved.

That relief is immediately replaced by guilt. It’s not like the cancellation is a surprise — the world is fucking crazy right now, there’s no way they could have pulled it off. It’s just…he knows there was a lot riding on this, a lot of people who depended on this, a lot of fans who were looking forward to this.

The point is, the tour gets cancelled and Johnny feels a knot lodged deep at the base of his spine, one he didn’t realize was there, loosen.

He sees how some of the members struggle with it at first, with all of their newfound free time.

Mark and Taeyong have the hardest time with it; restlessness quickly settles into their skin. He thinks they both spend more time in the studio now than last winter when they were double-booked with SuperM stuff.

Johnny, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. In fact, he thinks he should probably be worried at how quickly he settles into this new normal.

How quickly he stops waking up all high stress and anxious at 7am, and starts _really_ leaning into slow, leisurely lie-ins and strolling out of bed closer to 2pm.

He’s even been skipping the gym. Instead, prefering to do pushups in his room and (much to Donghyuck’s amusement) trying to learn yoga from soft-spoken white women on youtube.

Johnny feels unburdened in a way he hasn’t felt since…forever.

For now, he gets to live life in a sort of stasis. He doesn’t have to turn himself “on” for...who knows how long. He’d compare it to a summer vacation but even back then, when he was still at Glenbrook and picking up odd shifts at his shitty job, he’d spent most of the summer shuttling between Chicago and Seoul. He never really got to experience those lazy dog days.

The best part though...is this:

Mark, who’s sitting cross-legged on his bed. He’s in soft sweatpants and an even softer looking red tee shirt and he’s plucking softly at the strings of his guitar.

“Fuck,” he says in frustration. The notes are suddenly loud and discordant. “I swear I had it! Just lemme-“

He tries again. Johnny notices how he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and furrows his eyebrows in concentration. Strumming and strumming until he gets it right.

“Tell me what I'm waiting for,” he sings just under his breath. “I know it's hard, but we need each other….”

He plays the wrong chord again and curses even louder. Johnny laughs, standing up from where he sat on the ground and plopping down on the bed next to him.

He ruffles Mark’s hair, “It’s okay. It sounded really good.”

Mark mumbles, “I had it perfect in my room…you know I hate playing in front of you.”

“Aish!” Johnny tugs at Mark’s ear with one hand. “You’re gonna give me a complex, Mark Lee.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles again before tossing his guitar to the side and leaning his head back against the wall. He pushes the round-lens glasses he’s taken to wearing around the dorms further up on the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna fucking lose my ability to make music, I think.”

Johnny follows the smooth lines of Mark’s face with his eyes. He watches the way his muscles tense and relax as he tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling. The way Mark lets out a harsh exhale, the angry puff of air disturbing the fringe of his hair, still soft and wet from the shower.

“Impossible!” Johnny tells him. “Come on, you’re overthinking. Have you eaten yet?”

Mark laughs, “Hyung, you sound like my mom.”

Johnny wriggles his eyebrows up and down suggestively. “Kinky. Are you into that?”

Mark laughs again before reaching out and shoving at Johnny’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” he says, “Auntie made me something earlier though. Warmed up the doenjang jjigae from last night. I’m actually so full.”

He illustrates his point by twisting to the side and flopping back on Johnny’s pillows. He lifts one arm up and rubs his tummy. His pinky gets caught in the bottom hem of his tee shirt, and in turn, Johnny gets a glimpse of his soft, pale stomach. It takes everything in him to drag his eyes away from Mark’s dark and dusty happy trail and focus on his face.

“Wow, you didn’t even invite me to lunch? I’m hurt.”

A smile overtakes Mark’s face. “Dude, you hate eating on the tenth floor.”

“I do not!”

“Lies! Yo, you’re actually mad high maintenance. It’s so funny.”

Johnny, feeling offended, drops his jaw in outrage. “I am NOT. You guys have one mug! Forgive me for wanting a range of utensils!”

Mark laughs even harder. His body folding in on itself and forming a comma. God, Johnny thinks. He would fit perfectly right up against him.

Instead, Johnny keeps his distance and looks down at him. “I’m not high maintenance for not wanting to live in squalor, Mark.”

“You have a shelf of alcohol in your room that no one’s allowed to touch! Donghyuck is always complaining about it, okay? Dude, you’re bougie. Just accept it. ”

Johnny reaches out and grabs the small grey throw pillow on the bed next to him. He smashes it up against Mark’s face, hard enough that he flails. He only shows mercy when Mark lets out a pitiful little whimper.

“Hyung!” he scolds.

“So you and Hyuck talk shit about me, huh?” Johnny asks, ignoring him. “What other things do you say about me?”

“He actually made me promise not to tell. He made me pinky swear.”

Johnny starts to laugh, thinking Mark is just keeping up the banter...but then he remembers it’s _Mark Lee_ he’s talking to and he just knows Mark has exchanged a few solemn, deathly serious pinky swears in his lifetime. “Both of you are children.”

Mark beams for a few seconds. “But seriously hyung, if you’re hungry you should come upstairs and eat something. I’ll watch you and keep you company!”

“Well I do love when you watch,” Johnny says with a smirk.

Mark ducks his head, tucking his chin against his chest. But Johnny stills catches the way his cheeks go red, the color blooming from his forehead all the way down his neck.

“Dude,” Mark says, “You’re so weird.”

❖❖❖❖

Johnny wishes he could remember the first moment he realized he was in love with Mark. He wishes he could recall the exact moment it all shifted.

They’ve always been close. They were friends from the moment they met. Johnny had already been spending his summers at SM for years by that point and he was used to the grueling hours and the hard ass dance instructors and vocal coaches. But when he met Mark who was probably like 14 at the time, Johnny could tell that under his punishing work ethic and the way he vibrated with the need to please, Mark was actually terrified.

And so Johnny talked to him. At first it was nice to have someone who laughed at all of his jokes in a hero worshippy kind of way. But, the more they spoke, slipping in and out of English and Korean just like he did at home, Johnny realized Mark made him feel comfortable in a way none of the other trainees did.

Many nights, he would find himself staying up late in the practice rooms while Mark went over routines. Johnny, cross-legged on the ground with his back pressed up against the wall of mirrors while half-scrolling through his phone and half-looking up at Mark. Mark, counting quietly under his breath while repeating the same steps over and over again. Until they looked perfect to Johnny but never good enough to Mark.

They’d only finally call it a night when Mark would look over and see Johnny nodding off. “Hyung, you look exhausted. I’m so sorry, we can go.”

They’d leave and head back to the dorms, but not before stopping at the CU store on the way. Johnny let Mark get whatever he wanted and they’d sit outside on the picnic benches in front of the store and admit to being homesick between slurps of noodles.

Johnny would tell Mark how he missed the beef sandwiches and chili cheese dogs from Portillo’s. The pillowiness of the hoagie and the way the greasy chili would drip down his fingers after taking the first bite. And Mark admitted that he really missed his friends from back home. When he moved back to Canada after his time in New York it took forever for him to settle into a social circle and it was really tough to leave them, even if it meant chasing his dream.

Johnny doesn’t know when he went from helping Mark try to break his own record for tossing Jolly Pongs up in the air and catching them in his mouth to…wanting to trace the stubble on Mark’s chin with his lips and kissing over the calluses on his fingertips.

“Dude. You’re being so weird,” Mark says again.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said, do you want me to make you cereal?”

Johnny wrinkles his eyebrow, “Why, a trademark and artisanal bowl of cereal from Mark Lee himself? I would be honored.”

“Man, shut up,” he shoves Johnny before standing up. “Come on.”

❖❖❖❖

“You gotta tell him,” Donghyuck says.

When Johnny looks over, Donghyuck is sitting on his own bed, staring intently down at his foot and picking at his toenail. Disgusting.

“You’re really gross, you know that?”

“Oi!” Donghyuck throws a pillow at him but it misses. “Stop changing the subject, Johnny-hyung. You have to tell him. It’s making you crazy.”

“Impossible,” he says. “I’ve never had a single outward feeling in my life.”

Donghyuck looks unimpressed. “You’re almost 30.”

So, the thing is: Donghyuck _knows._

Johnny forgot that in addition to him being a clingy little demon and making his life hell in all of his usual ways…he was also freakishly observant.

“First off all, I just turned 25 and-“

“The point is,” Donghyuck continues, speaking over him, “You have to tell him. It's getting pathetic.”

“Gee Hyuck thanks, tell me how you really feel.”

“It’s embarrassing. You’re pining.”

Johnny stands up and starts walking towards the door, desperate to get away from Donghyuck and away from this conversation.

“He’s starting to notice you know,” Donghyuck tells him. He furrowed his brows and levelled a piercing gaze at Johnny. Hyuck always looked at Johnny like he believed that with one well-aimed look, Johnny would share all of his deepest and darkest secrets. He was fucking delusional.

Johnny laughs and rolls his eyes, “Okay, see now I know you’re making things up. Mark Lee doesn’t notice shit.”

“Exactly,” Donghyuck walks up in front of Johnny and pokes him in the chest.

It hurts, he’s actually a lot stronger than he looks. “Ow,” Johnny whines before knocking Donghyuck’s hand away and rubbing at the already sore spot. He was probably going to bruise.

“Mark Lee doesn’t notice shit, except he keeps asking me if there’s something wrong with you. Which means you’re doing an even shittier job of keeping your disgusting heart eyes down to a minimum than I thought!”

“Whatever,” Johnny mumbles, trying to get around Donghyuck and through the door.

Donghyuck stops him with another hand to his chest, softly this time and looks up at him. “I’m serious, hyung,” he says. “You gotta tell him. It’s making you miserable.”

“I’m not miserable.”

Okay, he was miserable...but only a little bit.

Like, did it suck that instead of biting hickeys onto the soft skin of Mark’s inner thighs he was being interrogated by Hyuck, the maknae from hell-sent to Earth to terrorize him by forcing him to have heart to hearts? And who is constantly staring up at him with his beady little eyes filled with earnestness and genuine concern? Of course it fucking sucked.

However, Johnny was the _king_ of compartmentalizing. If compartmentalization was a sport, he would be a fucking highly-decorated Olympian.

He knows Donghyuck thinks he’ll unburden himself and reach some majestic stage of enlightenment if he just tells Mark he's in love with him. But Johnny’s thing is this: why bother sitting Mark down and pouring his heart out in some flowery Kdrama-style confession when he simply could just… _not_ do that.

Things were fine. They had been fine for years and they would continue being fine. No matter how many puppy dog stares and pouted lips Hyuck threw his way.

❖❖❖❖

Things were _not_ fine.

When Johnny hears a knock at his door, he thinks nothing of it...until he pulls it open and reveals a beaming Mark who’s dressed in a black tank top and basketball shorts.

“Dude, I’m READY!” he says, still smiling.

Johnny is confused. “Ready...for?”

Mark’s eyes shutter and the smile immediately leaves his face. Johnny wants to chase after it.

“Donghyuck said you’d work out with me.”

“He did, did he?” That meddling little shit, Johnny was going to kill him.

“Sorry,” Mark said, tugging at the bottom hem of his shirt. “Ummm, sorry. I’ll just go?”

“No, no it’s fine, Markie. Come on in.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t wanna interrupt. Donghyuck said—but I know he’s kinda….”

Johnny places his hands on Mark’s shoulders before steering him into the room and encouraging him to take a seat at the edge of Donghyuck’s bed.

“Just gimme a second to change,” Johnny tells him before walking over to his wardrobe.

“You’re gonna change?” Mark’s voice sounds rushed and tight and it makes Johnny look up at him, confused.

“Uh, yeah? My workout clothes.”

When he pulls the shirt over his head, he hears Mark let out a weird sound. Like a cross between a whimper and a cough.

“Dude, you good?” Johnny asks, looking over at him to make sure he wasn’t actually choking to death on Hyuck’s bed. Hyuck would be pissed.

Mark doesn’t answer verbally. Instead, he furiously nods before holding up three fingers and making the “okay” sign.

“O...kay.”

Once Johnny is clothed, he pushes his bed closer to the computers up against the wall and he pushes Hyuck’s bed closer to the door to give him and Mark some more floor space. But more importantly, he starts brainstorming ways to get through this without dying of a boner and/or taking Hyuck’s dumb advice and blurting out a love confession while trying to teach Mark how to use a fucking kettlebell or some shit.

“So was there anything in particular you wanted to work on or…?”

“Um, that stuff you did with Yuta-hyung and Taeyong-hyung looked really cool? Maybe some arm stuff,” he flexes his left arm. “I got no definition. Like _yo_ , I’m tryna get on your level, hyung.”

It worked at first. Johnny taking a calm, level-headed approach. He showed Mark the perfect push up form, making sure his arms were wide and his back was straight.

“Shit,” Mark groans, “This is actually so hard. This is what you do all the time?”

“Yep,” Johnny says, looking down at Mark and trying not to focus on how he could see the muscles of his ass and thighs straining each time he braced against the floor.

“I have shrimp arms,” he tells Johnny, already sounding out of breath. “Mad scrawny. Fuck.”

He does five more push ups in quick succession and Johnny is impressed by his determination and he actively tries to ignore the small whimpers and whines Mark makes every time his chest leaves the ground.

“God, my arms,” Mark complains again.

“You know,” Johnny kneels down close to him. “It’s not really supposed to be an arm exercise.”

Mark keeps his body in a plank position. “Dude, what?”

“Yeah like,” Johnny reaches under and around Mark’s arm and places a hand on his stomach. “It’s really abs and chest.”

He only half-jokingly slides his fingers down Mark’s chest, inching closer to the top of his shorts. Except Mark doesn’t laugh, panic, and then pull away like Johnny expected him to. He tenses at first, but then he looks up and Johnny swears he leans in closer to him.

“Hyung, you can-“

Johnny never gets to hear the end of that sentence because Donghyuck bursts into the room. He pushes through the door hard enough that it smashes loudly against the wall behind it. His raucous entrance makes Mark jerk back and scuttle away.

Johnny loves Donghyuck but he thinks he could kill him with his bare hands.

“Wellll,” he drawls, “Aren’t you two looking mighty cozy?”

Mark huffs out a noise that’s half-cough half-laugh before shooting up to his feet, “Oh hey Hyuck, I was actually just leaving.”

Hyuck takes a few steps, “Oh, please don’t stop on my account.”

“Nah, it’s cool I got a...thing with Jungwoo-hyung anyways,” Mark says, pausing at the door. Johnny notices that he’s resolutely avoiding eye contact. “Thanks, dude.”

Before Johnny can answer him, he all but runs out of the room.

“Well,” Donghyuck before folding his legs under his butt and sitting on the ground to Johnny. “This looked cute. Did you tell him?”

“I’m gonna kick your ass, you know that?”

“You love me too much to ever harm a single hair on my head.”

Johnny wastes no time tangling his fingers in Donghyuck’s hair and tugging at a handful. He only pulls for a few seconds before letting go but Donghyuck wails and then pouts.

“Johnny-hyung!”

“You were saying?”

“I was trying to _help_.”

“No, you were _meddling_. You tried to set me up.”

“Well, did it work?”

“No! Because you flounced your way in here and Mark ran outta here like his fucking house caught on fire.”

“Huh. Well. You know, that’s really not my fault. I gave you so much time to make your move,” then he leveled a glare at Johnny. “And how dare you? I do not flounce.”

❖❖❖❖

Mark avoids Johnny after that. The cold shoulder lasts for about two days which, by Mark “Never Holds A Grudge” Lee’s standards, is basically a lifetime. Johnny would be impressed if he wasn’t so on edge about it.

Johnny thinks that Mark felt awkward enough about their disaster push up session that he might have kept his distance if it wasn’t for them bodily running into each other in the fifth floor living room.

Johnny had been half-dozing on the couch, half-scrolling through his phone for almost two hours. Taeyong had gone to the studio earlier that afternoon, but he swore he’d be back in time to help Johnny with some video-editing. Johnny should have known not to trust him: he’s seen the laser focus that washes over Taeyong the moment he steps into the recording booth. He’s lost entire days in that studio.

When Johnny finally decides to throw in the towel and take a shower, maybe do a face mask, he quite literally bumps into Mark on his way down the hallway.

“Oh hey,” Mark says as he’s coming out of Taeyong’s room, “I mean- hi hyung.”

“Hey, Taeyong’s here? I didn’t hear you guys get back.”

Mark shrugs, “Yeah, we just got dropped off.”

Johnny notices the tension in Mark’s neck. He tries to ignore the way Mark’s shoulders are drawn up high and tight. This was so stupid. Nothing even happened. Nothing fucking happened and Johnny was sick of walking on eggshells.

The best remedy to an awkward situation, in Johnny’s opinion, was to simply pretend it wasn’t happening. If an elephant barreled its way through the woods, would anyone be allowed to feel awkward about it? ...Or whatever the fucking saying was.

So Johnny takes a deep breath and flashes the biggest smile he can muster. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Uh.” Mark scratches his head. “Nothing.”

Johnny’s second best remedy to an awkward situation? Alcohol.

“Great. Let’s get wasted.”

Mark didn’t drink much. None of them did usually. Normally, because of the grueling dance practices and the early starts in the morning, no one wanted the misery that came with a hangover.

But now, since they were spending all this time at home and with fewer obligations, more often than not, Johnny found himself upstairs drinking a nice cab sauv with Jaehyun or taking shots with Taeil-hyung and Yuta. Or sometimes, back in his room, he would pour a finger of the god-awful but expensive whiskey he got as a gift into a glass and pretend to enjoy it so he could trick a nosy Donghyuck into drinking it and watch as he puckered and sputtered.

Johnny always had a good time with his members but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the added element of inebriation. Everyone got a little bit louder, a bit more daring and a lot more relaxed. Since Johnny skipped out on the whole going to college thing, he knew this was the closest he’d get to a traditional on-campus experience.

And then there was Mark…. Johnny loved drunk Mark. Mark was a notorious lightweight and once he got a few gulps of booze in him, it was like the nerves and insecurity drained out of him. His limbs got loose and his face would get flushed and relaxed. Best of all, Johnny thinks, was the way Mark would cling to whoever was closest to him like a fucking cuddly barnacle. Drunk Mark doled out snuggles and soft touches effortlessly and without self-consciousness in a way sober Mark never would.

“What should we drink?” Mark asks, walking over to the refrigerator.

Johnny takes a seat at the table. “What do you guys have up here?”

Mark, now talking into the open fridge, “A mostly empty bottle of vodka and a few bottles of chamisul.”

“What flavor?”

“Uh, grape.”

Johnny makes a face. “Hate that shit. Remember last time?”

Mark laughs and then closes the door. “I think these are the same bottles from last time. Should we order something else?”

“Nah,” Johnny says, walking next to Mark. “Hey.”

Johnny sees the way he freezes up again. The muscles in his jaw and neck gather and go taut. But Mark steels himself and looks up at Johnny anyway. “What’s up?”

“Are we, like…okay?” Johnny asks him.

Mark swallows. “Of course, hyung.” He opens the fridge again and pulls out the bottle of mostly finished vodka. “Uh, bottoms up?”

Mark takes a huge gulp directly from the bottle, only to make gagging and retching noises seconds later. Johnny, cackling, makes a show of patting him on the back.

“Don’t be an animal, Markie.” Johnny’s pats turned into soothing circles. “I’ll grab the rest of the bottles and meet you in your room, okay?”

Mark keeps the vodka in one hand and grabs a bag of honey butter chips from the counter before heading down the hall.

❖❖❖❖

“Dude! Slow down,” Johnny slowly reaches for the bottle Mark was doing his damndest to empty. “Are we in a race?”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“How was the studio? You guys were gone all day.”

Mark lets out a sigh and flops back onto his bed. “Dude, I don’t know. I think I suck at making music now. Like I think my brain is fucked.”

“Bullshit, you’re Mark Lee, you came out of the womb with a guitar or some shit.”

Mark scrubs a hand over his face and then lets out a delayed giggle a few seconds later. “Dude, that would have been so painful for my mom.”

Johnny lets out a loud, fake scandalized gasp. “Language, young man!”

Mark rolls his eyes, “You’re so weird.”

Johnny stretches out on the bed next to Mark. And despite how badly he wants to pull Mark in close and soothe the tension he sees at his temples and creeping across his face, Johnny leaves a ton of space between them.

“What’s going on with you, Markie?”

Mark turns his neck to look at Johnny and for a few long seconds, he just stares. Johnny is about to fill the silence when Mark finally starts to speak.

“I feel,” he begins, “Kinda weird, you know.”

“Weird how?”

“So like, this is the first time in years that I’ve had to like stop and chill. And um, I don’t know. It’s just mad weird. I’ve never had so much... _time_ before.”

Johnny nods but says nothing. He knows how hard it is for Mark to articulate his feelings and he tries his best not to interrupt the process. He does his best to school his facial features and make sure they stay blank but encouraging. He tries not to give away the absolute nausea tornado building at the pit of his stomach. Mark isn’t about to drop a bomb on him, Johnny thinks, he _hopes_. It’s probably nothing bad, he repeats in his mind like a fucking mantra. It was anything _really_ bad, if Mark was in trouble, Johnny would know.

“It’s kinda like. I don’t know. I know it’s weird for everyone and I’m not complaining,” Mark explains. “I just feel antsy kinda. Like dang, it’s just so weird being alone with your own thoughts and like...thinking about things. I hate it. Do you know what I mean?” He rushes out the last part and looks a little embarrassed by the end of it. His face is flushed and Johnny can’t tell if it’s because Mark feels awkward or if it’s from the alcohol.

“Dude, is this like...dumb?” he asks.

Johnny can’t help it, he reaches out and runs his fingers through Mark’s hair — he brushes along his fringe and then lets his fingers briefly trail down the side of his face before tugging lightly at his ear and pulling back.

“‘S not dumb at all,” Johnny assures him.

Mark nods. He opens his mouth like he’s gonna speak again but closes it a second later and instead sits up and reaches for the vodka bottle. After taking a gulp and twisting his face in disgust, he makes a show of shaking the now-empty bottle from side to side.

“Time to crack open the soju,” he announces.

Johnny groans before sitting up and grabbing one of the bottles. “It’s shit.”

Mark, with a wide soft smile, agrees. “It’s _shit_.”

They both take a gulp each (straight from the bottle because no one thought to grab a shot glass) before sprawling back across Mark’s bed.

“I think I’ve also been thinking about...doing something like really dumb. Like really fucking reckless and scary.”

Johnny, a little confused by the sudden topic change takes a moment to respond. “Like bungee jumping?”

“Dude no,” he shoots back, “But yooo, we should go bungee jumping. Kun-hyung and Ten-hyung, they all did it. It looks sweeeet.”

Johnny laughs, “Sure Markie, whatever you want.”

Mark goes quiet, biting at his lip. Once again Johnny feels that same longing. It’s desperate and nagging; it washes over him and leaves the back of his neck tingly and his hair standing on end.

“...whatever I want?”

And there is it again: that shift from when they were down in Johnny’s room. The air feels charged up again. Like just before a summer thunderstorm, hot and heavy and the electricity is almost palpable. Johnny swallows and then clears his throat. “Yeah dude, of course. I’m a good hyung aren’t I?”

Mark nods. “The best,” he says, “Hyung, I want....”

He trails off but crawls closer to Johnny. Johnny immediately sits up. “Yeah?”

“I’m really drunk,” Mark tells him. “Like dude, I’m so drunk.”

“O...kay.”

Mark sighs and then takes one of Johnny’s hands and pulls it into his lap. He says nothing for a long time. He just quietly uses his own hands to curl Johnny’s fingers into a fist and then straighten them out again.

If Johnny’s being completely honest, he has no fucking idea what’s happening right now. The thing with Mark and the thing Johnny has always appreciated about Mark is that he’s an open fucking book. With Mark Lee, what you see is what you get and Johnny can always read him.

Except...for right now. And there’s nothing that terrifies Johnny more than feeling out of his depth.

“Mark wha-“

“Dude wait,” Mark says cutting him off, “I’m working up to it...’S scary.”

“Well now _you’re_ scaring _me_ ,” Johnny mumbles back.

Mark leans forward then and for a second Johnny really thinks he’s imagining it...until it happens — Mark’s lips on his.

He’s not processing what the fuck is happening. Mark Lee is _kissing_ him and Johnny must stay stock-still for a moment too long because he feels Mark start to pull away.

Johnny lets out a whine at the back of his throat, one that he would outright deny if Mark ever tried to bring it up again. Because there’s no fucking way this is ending before he’s even had a chance to begin.

He pulls Mark close; he gets a hand on either of Mark’s forearms and then surges forward and kisses him back. Gently at first, a few hesitant pecks because Johnny knows Mark can be skittish like an alley cat and Johnny is terrified of doing anything that would make him leave.

Mark, though, gives as good as he gets and pretty soon he’s diving in for kitten licks against Johnny’s lips, his tongue, and along the roof of his mouth. He even crawls forward and plants himself directly into Johnny’s lap which was...surprising.

Johnny always thought he’d be the better kisser.

Not in an obnoxious, overly cocky way. Just simply by way of him being the only one the two of them who actually went to high school parties and had the opportunity to hook up with other equally awkward and eager teens. Johnny hadn’t been shuttled into the company dorms and hours-long practices from the age of 13 like Mark had.

But, they were pretty evenly matched if Johnny was being honest. Sure, Mark kisses with all of the fervor Johnny thought he would, but his movements are also more measured and deliberate than Johnny expected. He takes charge too. He gives bites to Johnny’s bottom lip that are half-warning, half-teasing and half-promise. He also won’t keep still. His hands roam up and down Johnny’s arms, scratch lightly along his neck and then tangle themselves in Johnny’s hair. The heat was also building where Mark was on Johnny’s lap. Mark keeps making small whines and rotating his hips, clearly desperate for friction. Johnny’s dick isn’t hard yet but if Mark keeps it up he definitely would be, which was also a revelation in itself. Because holy shit was Mark Lee... _sexy_?

The thought genuinely floors him for a moment. Like yeah, he liked Mark but had Mark been a raging sex pest the entire time and Johnny was simply unaware of his allure because he was too busy being distracted by his own wholesome ass _feelings_?

He even pulls away to think about it. When Mark leans in to chase after him, his eyes blown wide and his mouth a swollen cherry red, it only serves to underscore Johnny’s revelation.

“Holy shit,” Johnny leans back towards him, almost whispering directly against Mark’s lips. “You look so fucking good, Markie.”

Mark flushes and mumbles a response that’s promptly lost in the wet heat between them.

“Dude,” Mark says.

Johnny feels him push harder even though their chests are already pressed together. It’s like Mark is trying his damndest to make his way past the tough wall of muscle and bone to get even closer to Johnny.

Johnny laughs, “You’re seriously gonna call me ‘Dude’ when your tongue is playing ping pong with my tonsils? That’s a bit much even for you.”

“Hyung,” Mark corrects and then he makes a small keening sound that goes straight to Johnny’s dick.

Mark Lee was gonna ruin him for all men, forever. Johnny still could not fucking believe it.

“What’s up, what do you need, baby?” The pet name slips out without Johnny’s permission but before he has a chance to be absolutely mortified by it (he’ll pencil that in for later), Mark starts trying to manhandle him into lying down.

After a few slightly awkward seconds of maneuvering, Johnny turns so his back is up against the pillows at the head of the bed. Mark wastes no time climbing on top of him, settling between the vee of Johnny’s legs.

“This okay?” Johnny asks.

He feels Mark, who’s currently sucking small careful love-bites onto his neck, nod.

Johnny lets his hands wander down Mark’s chest. He lets his thumbs rub back and forth until he feels and then sees the outline of Mark’s nipples through his shirt.

“You wanna….” Johnny lightly traces his hand up and down the zipper of Mark’s jeans. He toys at the fly. “I mean, do you want me to-.”

Johnny cuts himself off when he sees how quickly Mark shakes his no. It’s the first time since Mark went in for the kiss that Johnny feels tension in his body and Johnny’s feeling a little embarrassed at how badly he misread the situation.

Except Mark wasn’t moving. He is still plopped comfortably on Johnny’s lap and looking thoroughly debauched.

“I just wanna, um, like. Make out a little if that’s chill?” Mark looks at him. “Is that...chill?”

“Yeah,” Johnny hears the way his voice gets all soft, “Of course, of course it is. C’mere.”

This time, it’s Johnny who does the manhandling and rearranging. He lifts Mark off his lap and pulls him down so they are both lying on the bed and facing each other.

Johnny lifts a hand to the back of Mark’s neck and pulls him into another kiss. “Okay?”

Mark nods, “‘S so good.”

Johnny dips back down and chases away the sickly sweet taste of grape. Johnny kisses him until his jaw aches and he forgets where he ends and Mark begins.

And Mark, he keeps up with him—meeting every flick of Johnny’s tongue with one of his own. Reaching back when Johnny pulls him closer. Tugging at Johnny’s hair and keeping him grounded when the haze of euphoria makes Johnny feel light and like he’s floating away from his fucking body.

Johnny would be surprised at how natural it feels being here with Mark, like this. But, it’s _Mark_. Mark, who is always willing to meet him halfway and go along with even his most outlandish schemes.

Mark, the consistent presence at his side for the last six years, and who already feels so familiar, that it’s not even shocking that kissing him feels like sliding off his shoes after a long day. Kissing him feels like coming home.

When Mark pulls away this time, it’s to yawn directly in Johnny’s face.

Johnny laughs before frowning, “That boring, huh?” He runs his hand up and Mark’s back.

“Sorry,” Mark says sheepishly before ducking down and hiding his face against the curve of Johnny’s neck.

Johnny tangles his fingers in the downy hair at the crown of Mark’s head before playfully tugging at his ear. “You really know how to crush a guy’s ego. You’re such a heartbreaker, Mark Lee.”

“Damn,” Mark says with his face still mashed up against Johnny’s skin, “This is so embarrassing, but I’m actually so exhausted right now.”

He lets out another yawn on cue and Johnny moves to pull away from him for real. “You want me to-“

Mark cuts him off by wrapping a hand around Johnny’s wrist. “But I really don’t want you to go.”

“Oh,” Johnny relaxes for a second but then tenses up again.

Mark wanted Johnny to _sleep_ in his _bed_. Johnny had Mark’s tongue shoved down his throat for several minutes but somehow the prospect of them squished onto Mark’s tiny mattress for the entire night seemed infinitely more intimate.

Johnny tugs off his sweatshirt and throws it onto Mark’s dresser before settling back in bed. As soon as his back hits the mattress, Mark drapes himself all over Johnny's front.

“This is okay, right?”

With his eyelids already drooping closed, Mark answers, “Dude, it’s perfect. It’s literally so perfect…thank you.”

❖❖❖❖

When Johnny wakes up the next morning, Mark is gone.

He can’t tell how long he’s been gone because even though the sheets and duvet covers are rumpled and still Mark-shaped, the space he once occupied is cool to the touch.

“Fuck,” Johnny says under his breath.

He doesn’t give himself too long to lie around feeling sorry for himself. It wasn’t the ideal environment. With the scent of Mark’s detergent clinging to the air and half-drunk bottles of soju still open on the dresser. No, Johnny wanted to wallow in the comfort of his own room, thank you very much.

Johnny makes quick work of kicking his way up and off the bed and heading back downstairs.

He all but runs down the hall and to the elevator and at this point he’s not sure what would be worse — running into Mark or running into one of the other members and having to explain why he slept upstairs in the first place.

When Johnny finally makes it back to his room, he flings open the door and finds it blissfully empty.

On his way to his bed, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror on the wall next to his armoire and honestly, he’s seen better days. His hair is a greasy mess, his face is puffy and his forehead is oily. He looks exactly like he spent the entire night drinking and then passed out before taking a shower.

Johnny briefly considers heading into the bathroom, but the thought of doing anything that wasn’t curling up into a ball in the middle of his bed seems distinctly appealing.

And so, he does just that. He pulls off his sweatpants, and crawls onto his mattress.

“Fuck,” he says aloud for the second time that morning.

God, this is exactly what Johnny had been trying to tell Donghyuck. Even if Johnny had a crush (“You’re almost 37 years old, hyung. Stop calling it a crush, grow up!”). Fine, even if Johnny was _in love_ with Mark to the point of it being a little more than a bummer, there was no real way from them to transition out of that. Even after the night they just had.

There was no way for them to go from being friends to being... _what-the-fuck-ever_ without it being incredibly awkward. And god, as if Mark fucking Lee needed more reasons to be awkward.

Mark had turned into a lubed up and jittery eel, after that first — admittedly charged up — gaze in Johnny’s room. Now that they’ve actually kissed and Johnny offered to touch his dick, he has no doubt that Mark was already heading off the grid and hightailing it to the fucking mountains of Jejudo by now.

And you know what? Everyone gives dudes shit for choosing “hoes over bros,” but maybe it was actually a harsh and sobering (god, no pun intended) reminder to not fuck your friends. In fact, maybe Johnny needed to do a fucking Naver search to find the dude who came up with such a revelatory catchphrase and shake his fucking hand.

“Fuck,” Johnny says for the third time that morning.

This time it’s louder and with feeling.

He groans before blindly reaching out to grab one of his pillows and squishing it over his face. He decides to fully lean into his wallowing and lets out a yell into the pillow. But, he is quickly embarrassed by how loud it still sounds against the empty silence of his bedroom, so he tosses the pillow over on Hyuck’s bed and stares blankly up at his ceiling.

“What the hell am I gonna do?”

❖❖❖❖

When the knock on his door comes minutes (an hour? _two hours_?) later, he almost doesn’t hear it.

“Yeah?”

He gets no response and after a few seconds he huffs before walking over and yanking the door open.

Johnny’s not sure who he expected to be on the other side. Donghyuck maybe, or even Taeil. But definitely not Mark who still looks like he had just rolled out of bed with his hair soft, but frizzy and tangled. He wore black basketball shorts and surprisingly, dangerously, _lethally_ , he’s pulled on the grey sweatshirt that Johnny had forgotten in his room the night before. The shirt is two sizes too big for him — the hem hangs long past this waist and the sleeves are roomy and droop past his hands. _Fucking sweaterpaws_.

Mark doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks nervously at Johnny and chews on his bottom lip.

“Uh, hey?” Johnny says.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Johnny says, already stepping aside, “Of course you can.”

Mark makes his way into the room. It’s not lost on Johnny the way Mark deliberately walks past Donghyuck’s bed to sit in the middle of Johnny’s.

After pulling Donghyuck’s computer chair away from the desk and spinning it around to face Mark, Johnny plops himself down.

“Everything okay?”

Mark stares intently down into his lap. He’s picking at the thin skin on his cuticles, the way he always does when he’s stressed. Johnny sees that his thumbs are already bruised red and inflamed.

“Hey,” Johnny tells him, “Cut it out, what’s going on?”

Separating his hands, Mark tells him, “I’m working up to it. It’s scary.”

“This week is all about you doing scary things, isn’t it?”

Mark closes his eyes and then hugs his knees to chest. “Fuck,” Johnny hears him whisper under his breath.

Few things trigger as feral a response as Johnny seeing Mark in turmoil, and so he wastes no time sitting on the bed and gently trying to cajole him into picking his head up.

“Hey, come on, tell me what’s up?" And then, quieter Johnny asks him, “Why’d you leave?”

Mark, who still has his face pressed against his knees, mumbles, “I did something bad, dude.”

“Like what? Come on Markie, you can tell me.”

“You’re going to be so mad. You’ll hate me,” Mark lets out a sound that’s half-sob and half-hiccup.

Johnny feels his stomach twist and suddenly nothing is more important than making sure he never hears that sound from Mark ever again. He kneels on the bed so he’s facing Mark, and then he envelops him. He pulls Mark against his chest.

“I won’t, I won’t, just tell me.”

Mark finally picks his head up, but in the process Johnny also feels him push hard at his chest. Johnny gives him space immediately; he sits back on his shins and tries to act like the distance doesn’t sting.

“Last night,” Mark began, his face red and his eyes watery, “When we—I… I wasn’t drunk.”

Johnny doesn’t say anything at first. He expects there to be more. But as the silence stretches and the look of anticipation on Mark’s face grows, Johnny is confused.

“Uh, okay? You weren’t drunk?”

“I _know_ ,” Mark suddenly shoots up, pacing back and forth along the narrow space between the bed, “It was fucked up. I know it was so fucked up. I’m sorry, hyung. I took advantage. And it’s so terrible. I feel so guilty. I woke up this morning, and I felt nauseous with guilt. I’m literally going to hell, dude.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Johnny stands up and plants a hand on either of Mark’s shoulders, forcing him to stay still.

“I’m so sorry, hyung,” Mark repeats, “If you never wanna talk to me again I’ll totally understand. It’s my fault.”

“Hey slow down,” Johnny tells him. “Let’s sit.”

They take a seat on the edge of the bed. Johnny tugs one of Mark’s hands into his and rubs small circles against his palm with his thumbs.

“You think I’m mad because you weren’t drunk last night?”

Mark nods. “I said I was. Dude, I _lied_.”

“Yeah, you did, but why?”

Mark’s face flushes and he mumbles something Johnny doesn’t quite hear.

Johnny uses his unoccupied hand to lightly cuff under Mark’s chin. “Speak up.”

“I really wanted to kiss you...and you know I’m a cuddly drunk. I don’t know, I thought you would let me.”

“Ah yes, just two bros _not_ sitting six feet apart and making out after a shot of soju because they _are_ gay,” Johnny says sarcastically.

His lips quirk up just a tiny bit, but Mark still notices and his frown deepens.

“Are you _laughing_ at me?”

“Mark, you didn’t have to come up with a grand master plan to woo me. Firstly, you fucking suck at making plans-“

Mark scoffs and moves like he’s going to stand up, but Johnny is one step ahead of him and pulls him back down.

“And secondly,” Johnny continues, “You didn’t have to come up with a grand master plan because I’m already in love with you, you giant huge oblivious goof!”

Mark scrambles off the bed and scurries to the other corner of the room. He doesn’t say a word but he stares at Johnny like he’s a ghost.

Which...huh.

“Um, is that okay?” Johnny gets up and takes careful steps towards him. “What is this? What are we doing?”

“Dude, I think I’m hallucinating,” Mark sounds dead serious.

Johnny groans, “Mark, c’mon.”

“No really hyung, cuz it sounded like you said-,” Mark cuts himself off. His eyes widen. “Oh my god. Maybe I _was_ drunk. Maybe I’m still drunk! Ummm how long does alcohol last?”

Johnny’s had enough. He closes the distance and then uses one hand to grab the back of Mark’s neck and press their forehead together.

“Cut it out,” Johnny tells him.

“I...like you too,” Mark admits finally. His voice goes small and shy. “I wanted to tell you ages ago. But I was so scared it would fuck everything. Even today. I was so scared.”

“Hey hey hey,” Johnny pulls him into a hug. The way he’s wanted to for so fucking long. “Nothing’s fucked up. We’re okay. We’re so okay, I’m gonna talk to someone and see if we can go about rearranging the letters of the alphabet.”

Mark lifts his head from where it was tucked under Johnny’s chin to look up at him, “Dude…what?”

“Nothing, nevermind,” Johnny says, using a hand to push Mark’s head back down.

Mark huffs out a laugh and then presses a loud smacking kiss to Johnny's neck. “I’m so fucking relieved. I thought I was gonna have to write a letter to Taeyong-hyung and tell him I’m leaving the band.”

Johnny, with his arms still firmly wrapped around Mark, starts walking backwards towards his bed. When he feels the mattress hit the back of his shins, he throws himself onto it and brings Mark down with him.

Their landing is only a little bit painful. Having Mark solid and comfortable against Johnny’s chest makes up for the way he narrowly avoids a knee to his crotch.

“No parting letters just yet,” Johnny says.

“Good,” Mark says, “…and well, since I’m here…and _we’re_ here together. Right now. And since we both admitted that…you know. Can we- I mean, can I-“

“Come on, little dude, spit it out. You can do it, I have faith.”

“I really wanna make out again,” he says all in one breath.

Johnny rearranges them on the bed so they are now lying side by side. He leans and whispers against Mark’s lips, “Good thinking.”

Kissing Mark feels just like Johnny remembers. It’s searing, familiar, and Johnny fucking sinks into it.

“Hey,” Johnny pulls away and smirks when he sees the way Mark instinctively tilts his head to chase after him. “Did you lock the door when you came in?”

Mark nods impatiently before diving back against Johnny’s mouth. He throws one leg over Johnny’s side before hoisting himself back on top of him.

Johnny, still lying down, eases up onto his elbows and forearms so Mark can kiss him easier and without straining too much. And just like last night, Mark kisses Johnny like it’s a group project he’s being graded on individually. His nervousness from earlier is long gone and he sucks, bites and licks his way into Johnny’s mouth and against the curve of Johnny’s neck.

When he starts tugging and pulling urgently at the bottom hem of Johnny’s shirt, Johnny gets the hint and yanks it off and throws it across the room.

“I wanna-“ Mark breathes, “Fuck. I really wanna-“

“Whatever you want, Markie.”

“Please, can we-“

Johnny doesn’t hear the end of Mark’s sentence because the bedroom door swings open.

“Gotcha!”

At the sound of Donghyuck’s voice, Johnny pulls away from Mark’s mouth so fast he almost gives himself whiplash.

“I thought you said you closed the door!”

“Sorry,” Mark says, not looking very sorry at all. His mouth is already swollen and sex pest red. He tilts his neck and curves his back, trying to capture Johnny’s lips.

Johnny can’t help himself, he ducks down and gives Mark a peck.

“I got distracted,” Mark tells him.

Johnny almost gives into temptation again, but then he remembers the bane of his existence in the corner of the room.

“Is there something you fucking _need_ , Donghyuck?”

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” he draws out, “Don’t mind me. It’s not like it’s my room too. It’s not like Mark doesn’t have a perfectly good single room upstairs. It’s not like-“

“Hyuck.”

Donghyuck lifts a hand in the air and waves Johnny off. “Alright alright, keep your raging boner in pants.”

Johnny feels Mark shift on top of him. When he turns to look at him, Mark bites down on his bottom lip before curling on top of Johnny and hiding his face against Johnny’s chest. “Make him leave, hyung,” Mark whines.

“I’m trying,” he mumbles before addressing the menace, “Hyuck, get out.”

“I’m going, I’m going. Just want to document my services. You know if this idol thing doesn’t work out for me, I’m gonna be a great matchmak-“ Donghyuck squawks and then runs out of the room when a pillow Marks throws hits him square in the head.

“Shit, baby,” Johnny says before leaning down and pressing small, sucking kisses against Mark’s jaw. “You have great aim.”

“Congratulations!” Donghyuck yells from down the hall. A few seconds later he adds, “And you’re welcome!”

Johnny gets up to pointedly lock and slam the door closed. When he returns to bed, he leans over on top of Mark, bracketing him in with one hand on either side of his head.

“Hey,” Mark says, beaming.

“Hey yourself,” Johnny leans down and kisses him.  
  
  


.fin.

Come yell about Johnmark with me over on[ twitter](https://twitter.com/silver_spooning)!


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